20th Anniversary
by AlterEgo20
Summary: Victor and Victoria celebrate their twentieth wedding anniversary. Rated for sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** I wrote this little story at the request of a friend. It's my first foray into anything mature, but I don't think it turned out too badly. I usually write under a different pen name, but I didn't want the younger people who read my work to get an alert about this one (just in case). The one thing I noticed is that they both seem a little young the way I've written them—they're supposed to be forty or so here. I suppose I figured that shyness is simply part of both their characters, one that wouldn't go away too much as they aged. Any thoughts or suggestions would be much appreciated.

**20th Anniversary**

"Do you remember our wedding night?" Victoria asked, looking over her shoulder at Victor. She was seated at her vanity table in her bedroom, beginning the tedious process of taking out her hairpins before getting ready for bed. The bedroom curtains were pulled only halfway shut, so that the moonlight fell in bright shafts over the floor and bed. Though with all of the lamps lit, the moonlight was rather hard to see. It would be brilliant once the room was dark, though.

Victor, who was sitting in the armchair near the window, looked startled at her question. And, after the startled look left his face, his expression was slightly embarrassed.

"Er, yes," he replied, only meeting her eyes briefly before looking back down at the photo album he was looking through. Victoria couldn't help smiling a little as she regarded him. Twenty years she'd been married to this man. Two decades of sharing the same bed, sharing meals...sharing children. Today had been a special occasion, a big anniversary. Twenty years. Goodness, they'd now officially lived together longer than they had lived apart. Victoria gave silent and heartfelt thanks, just as she did every day (but most especially on their anniversaries), that she and Victor had been brought together. What a happy coincidence it had been that the husband her parents had arranged for her just happened to be her soulmate. Coincidence, or Fate, or whatever...it really didn't matter. Victor was her husband, and she was his wife, and Victoria was positive that their next twenty years together (here Victoria rapped her knuckles on the wooden surface of her vanity table) would be just as happy as these first had been.

"Is someone knocking?" Victor asked, looking up. Victoria concentrated on her reflection in the mirror. She hadn't realized that she'd knocked on wood loud enough for him to hear.

"I didn't hear anything," she replied lightly. For another moment Victor looked at the door.

"Oh. I could have sworn..." he remarked, not bothering to finish his sentence. With a shrug he turned his attention back to the album. Victoria pulled a few more pins from her hair. Now her hair fell loose around her shoulders. She shook it out gently before picking up her brush and running it through her hair. As she brushed she gazed at Victor, reflected over her shoulder in the mirror. Smiling a little, she cast her eyes down. Victor was the only person besides her parents and Hildegarde who had ever seen her with her hair down. _He probably doesn't realize what a privilege it is, _Victoria thought, amused. She wouldn't let just anyone see her with her hair unbound. It was a strange quirk, she knew, but Victoria had always felt rather undone and vulnerable when her hair wasn't properly pinned up. Victor was the one person that she felt she _could_ be undone and vulnerable with—she felt safe and comfortable in his company. Not to mention loved. Even though she'd never voiced any of those ideas, Victoria suspected that, on some level, Victor knew. Something about the way he always took a moment to gently run his fingers through her hair whenever she had it down. Somehow, just thinking about it was enough to make Victoria flush just then. Putting her hand to her warm cheek, she took a deep breath to calm herself. That _certainly_ wasn't a very ladylike thought, or reaction. Not that Victoria regretted it in the least, though.

"I remember how nervous we both were," Victoria continued reflectively, running the brush through her hair. Victor merely cleared his throat quietly. So she went on, "We spent half the evening reading together. Then you came up to my room..._after _you broke my great-grandmother's vase."

"As you said, I was nervous," Victor murmured with a self-deprecating smile, his eyes still on the album.

"I was so shy...a bit frightened, actually," she went on, more to herself than to Victor. Finally she turned and faced him. His ears, she noticed with amusement, were slowly turning pink.

"But everything worked out," she said. Tilting her head, she looked at him for a moment. "After that first night, it seems amazing that we ever--"

"Goodness, the girls certainly put a lot of work into this photo album, didn't they? It was a lovely idea for a present for us," Victor interrupted, all too obviously trying to change the subject. At that moment, Victoria realized that it had been a while since she'd teased him affectionately. So, with a smile, she said,

"You very nearly had my eye out. And I was so startled when, all of a sudden, you were...on top of me." Victoria deliberately dropped her voice to a near whisper with those last words. Amused, she watched Victor fidget uncomfortably. _Why is it,_ she wondered, _that we can _do _it, and quite enjoy it, but get flustered _talking_ about it?_

"Really, Victoria, this is hardly an appropriate conversation," he said. But he sounded amused at the memory, too. Before she could say anything else, Victor looked up at her.

"You truly shouldn't talk about such things, Mrs. Van Dort. It isn't fitting," he said in the closest to a gruff tone that he could manage. He looked as though he was trying very hard to keep from smiling. Gruff was not a tone that worked for Victor, nor did he do it very well—he only tried it when he was joking with her. One of their favorite little private jokes that they'd developed over the years had to have been "Overbearing Disinterested Husband and Meek Retiring Little Wife." The joke being, of course, that no set of roles could be farther from the truth of their relationship. _No wonder everyone thinks we're utterly mad,_ Victoria thought as she considered her and Victor's many private jokes that were amusing and understandable only to them. But then she shrugged it off and held up her end of the game.

"How terribly rude of me," she said in her best chastised tone. She cast her eyes to the floor and folded her hands in her lap. "You have my deepest apologies, Mr. Van Dort. I shall _never _let such a thing happen again."

At that, both of them broke into wide, amused smiles. Victor even chuckled quietly.

"In any case, we—well, _I_—learned eventually," he told her in a low tone. Then he held out the photo album and pointed to a picture of their daughters that had been taken years ago out in the back garden. "I have proof. Exhibits A through D," Victor said, tapping the photograph.

As Victoria laughed quietly, she was taken by the sudden urge to embrace him. Something about his expression, the way he was grinning at her, then at the photo, then back again. He simply looked...well, embraceable. So she put her hairbrush down and got up. Within moments she was standing in front of him with her hands on his shoulders. He had watched her approach, looking expectant, and he'd already placed the photo album on the small table next to the chair.

"How long has it been since I told you how funny you are?" Victoria asked in a teasing tone, leaning forward until their foreheads met. Victor opened his knees just enough for her to stand in between them. Closing her eyes, she gave him a light, affectionate kiss on the end of his nose.

"I don't remember, but it's rather nice to hear," he replied, his voice teasing as well. He ran his hands up and down her arms, making her shiver. Finally he placed his hands over hers, and Victoria took a step backward. They were both still for a moment, gazing at one another as they held hands. Victoria felt a warm knot starting to grow in the pit of her stomach. Victor was wearing his dreamy-eyed romantic look, the one that never failed to make her toes tingle. Even after twenty years, it got the same reaction out of her. He simply looked so sweet, and so very loving.

"What are you thinking about?" he finally asked, giving her hands a squeeze. "You look quite deep in thought."

"I was merely thinking," she said reflectively, stroking his fingers, "I've now been Mrs. Van Dort longer than I was Miss Everglot." It truly seemed amazing. Could they really have been married for twenty years now? It could hardly have been that long...it didn't feel as though it had been that long. Victor smiled that odd, affectionate half-smile of his.

"How does it compare?" he asked. He lifted both her hands to his lips briefly before looking up into her face. When their eyes met, a pleasurable little thrill shot through her. It never failed. Looking into Victor's eyes, and really seeing him and all of the obvious affection he felt for her, always did more for Victoria than any words or caresses ever could.

Suddenly feeling bold, she gave his hands a gentle tug. Taking her hint, Victor stood and wrapped his arms around her. She pressed the side of her face against his chest, stroking his shoulders, feeling his cheek resting gently on the top of her head. In the stillness, she could hear his heart beating. It was a reassuring sound.

"Well," she finally said, speaking into his coat, "Miss Everglot was a very lonely, sad girl. She never had anyone who truly cared about her. Or even understood her. All she had was a faint hope that someday she'd meet someone who loved her, and that she would love him back. And then she wouldn't be lonely anymore. But she never quite believed it."

"The poor thing," Victor said when she paused, making her smile. He ran one hand gently over her hair before twining a few strands through his fingers. "I think I know precisely how she felt."

"But Mrs. Van Dort," Victoria continued, "is quite possibly one of the most contented and happy women who have ever lived. She has four lovely, happy daughters who know they have a mother and father that love them very much. She has a husband who treats her as an equal, with respect and affection. For twenty years she's felt protected and well-taken care of. And very, very loved."

There was a silence. Victoria was rather surprised that she'd said all of that. She could tell that Victor was pleased. He held her closely to him—they'd even begun to rock back and forth slightly. She closed her eyes, a warm wave of affection coursing through her. She'd meant every word she'd just said.

"That was lovely, Victoria," Victor finally said, his voice sounding rather thick with emotion. He stroked her back gently. "And believe me, I feel just the same way about you. I always have. But I don't think I could ever have put it so well."

Victoria lifted her head to find Victor looking down at her with that same tender, half-lidded expression. She lifted a hand to his face, running her thumb over his cheek.

"You don't need to," she told him. "I know."

Smiling, Victor lowered his face to hers. When their lips met, she felt the breath go out of her. After so many years, it seemed as though his kisses shouldn't affect her so much. But they always did. What began as a light, tender peck on the lips quickly became deeper, more passionate. He was holding the back of her head gently, his other arm about her waist, holding her as close as he possibly could. She held on to him just as tightly, her hands massaging his chest. Victoria began to feel her knees trembling as she attempted to get even closer. She could feel Victor's entire body pressed against her own. Even through layers and layers of clothing, it was a very intimate embrace—one that they'd shared many, many times. And it never lost its allure. The kiss seemed to go on forever. Actually, Victoria rather felt that she wouldn't mind if it _did_ go on forever. When she felt Victor's tongue run gently over her lower lip, she had the sensation of melting.

Both of them were breathless when they finally pulled apart. They didn't loosen their embrace, instead hugging one another close. Victoria felt herself beginning to tremble a little, though not unpleasantly. She wrapped her arms around his waist. Goodness, he was still so thin...she could nearly wrap her arms all the way around him. It took a moment for both of them to get a bit of their breath back. Once they had, Victor brought his hands to either side of her head and pressed his lips against her hairline.

"I'll go get changed," he murmured. Victoria could barely nod; the feel of his lips moving against her forehead as he spoke was almost too much. He pulled back, and merely stood there for a moment regarding her.

"You do look lovely with your hair down," he finally told her, his voice full of affectionate admiration. Victoria cast her eyes to the floor with a pleased smile. Even after all this time, Victor could still make her blush like a girl. After a moment she looked up again to find him still gazing at her. Whether it was the blush or affection, Victoria couldn't tell, but either way she felt warm all over. Especially when Victor leaned down to kiss her on the cheek.

"I'll be right back," he said. Reluctantly Victoria let go of him. He seemed equally reluctant to let go of her. She watched him walk away. When he got to the door that adjoined their rooms, he turned and smiled at her over his shoulder.

"I'll be waiting," Victoria said quietly, surprised at how hoarse her voice sounded.


	2. Chapter 2

"I won't be long," Victor promised. Then he disappeared through the doorway. After a moment Victoria could hear dresser drawers being opened and closed as Victor collected his nightclothes. She had to take a moment to collect herself enough to begin getting undressed. So she merely stood for a moment, one hand to her bosom. Her heart was still racing. After a few deep breaths, she felt calmer.

Victoria went to her wardrobe, and, after a moment's indecision, chose her nicest nightgown. She'd had it made for her birthday last year, and it was quite honestly the most immodest piece of clothing she owned. Well, it was only Victor who would ever see her in it, so that didn't really matter. It might even have been a good thing. In any case, Victoria thought it was lovely. The nightgown was floor-length, made out of silk. Tiny, lacy buttons went down to about the middle of her shin—the rest was open, leaving her ankles visible. The sleeves were loose, and bunched together with lace ruffles at the wrist. It was the neckline that made the gown so daring. Her everyday linen nightgowns had a short collar on them, covering most of her neck. But this one had a scooped neckline edged in lace, and an empire waist, and it showed the barest hint of the top of her bosom when she wore it. It wasn't even as high as the front of her corset. Victoria had only worn it twice so far—once on her birthday, and then on Christmas. And now for her and Victor's anniversary.

Once behind her folding screen, Victoria began to undress as quickly as she could. It took a while to work through all of the layers, especially wriggling out of her corset. She was about to slip her nightgown on over her camisole and drawers, as she always did, but then stopped to reconsider. Wearing something under this gown would spoil its effect, but to wear nothing...Oh, it was improper, she knew...but then she realized she truly didn't care. It was for Victor. And, perhaps, for herself. And so, blushing even though she was alone and behind a screen, she quickly took the rest of her underthings off. Just as quickly, she pulled her nightgown over her head. She had to admit, the feel of silk against her bare skin was lovely.

She didn't bother with her dressing gown or slippers. Stepping out from behind the screen, Victoria fully expected to see Victor waiting for her. But he was nowhere in sight yet. Odd. She listened for a moment, and could hear some faint sounds coming from his room. Whatever he was doing, he wasn't quite finished yet. So Victoria went to her bed and turned down the covers, then fluffed the pillows a bit. Still no Victor. She cast her eyes around for something else to do while she waited.

The door. She should lock the door. The children were grown past barging into a room without knocking, she knew, but one couldn't be too careful. She took the key from the night-table and made her way over to the door. On the way, she caught a glimpse of herself in her full-length mirror. _Oh, dear,_ Victoria thought as she looked over her reflection.

All of the expectation, desire, and affection she'd been filled with seemed to run down out of the bottom of her feet. What in the world had she been thinking with this gown? She was nearly forty—this was something for a young woman, a new bride, to wear. Victoria no longer had the figure for this kind of gown. Frowning, and feeling silly, she brought her hands to her waist and turned this way and that, looking at herself in the mirror. She was definitely plumper than she had been when she and Victor had gotten married. Her middle was easily twice the size it had been—with her corset on it wasn't so noticeable, but without it...There was no way Victor would ever be able to span her waist with his hands again, the way he'd been able to twenty years ago. Her hips and thighs were bigger, too, even though they'd never exactly been slender. And after four children, the firmness of her bosom left much to be desired. Her breasts looked soft, full, and tired underneath that low neckline. The clingy silk gave everything away. Especially since she'd been silly enough not to wear anything underneath.

Holding the key tightly in her fist, Victoria leaned toward the mirror. Wrinkles were beginning to make themselves known. They were faint, barely noticeable, but they were there, especially around her eyes. And along her hairline and temples, right where Victor had kissed her so tenderly not ten minutes ago, were gray hairs. He'd been kissing gray hairs. It wasn't exactly fair—Victor didn't look much different than he had twenty years ago. His hair was thinning, and the lines under his eyes were a bit more prominent, but that was all. He was still pale and slender and handsome. Victoria let her shoulders slump a little. She did not look like a desirable young wife. She looked like what she was—a plump, forty-year-old mother of four. Victoria had always promised herself that she'd never become one of those women who were obsessed with their looks, and who fretted over every wrinkle and gray hair. But to actually be faced with those changes...

Quickly she turned away from the mirror, hiding her face with one hand. Then she looked down at the key. Should she even bother? She wasn't exactly feeling amorous anymore. Then she glanced over at the door between her room and Victor's. If he still wanted to, as he quite obviously had a few minutes ago, then she would. She didn't want to disappoint him. With a sigh, she made her way over to her bedroom door, put the key into the lock, and turned it. The door locked with a faint click. That done, Victoria still didn't move. She merely stood there, holding onto the doorknob with her forehead nearly touching the door itself. Vainly she was trying to bring back some of those lovely feelings from earlier. They didn't seem to be coming.

Suddenly she felt hands on her waist, then arms sliding around her middle. She jumped a little. She hadn't even heard Victor come into the room.

"I'm sorry," she heard him say. "Did I startle you?" He held her close, pressing against her back. Leaning down, he rested his chin on her shoulder and held his cheek very close to hers.

"Only a little," Victoria replied, trying to make her tone light. After a moment she caught a whiff of a pleasant scent. Ah, that's what had taken him so long—he'd taken time to clean his teeth and put on some cologne. Victor only rarely used any kind of scent, and when he did, it was for special occasions. Well, that had been considerate of him. Sweet, really. Victor hugged her again. Out of the corner of her eye, Victoria could see that he was gazing at her profile. She still couldn't quite bring herself to look at him, though. But then, she felt Victor gently push her hair out of the way to kiss the back of her neck. She had to close her eyes for a moment. The rush of sensation made her feel as though she were going to swoon. Taking a shuddering breath, Victoria turned around.

Victor had put on pajamas instead of his usual nightshirt. These were gray, with faint blue piping. And they were actually a bit too big for him—oddly, the way they hung on his frame, they made him look a bit bigger than he actually was. More broad. The illusion, coupled with the masculine smell of his cologne, sent Victoria almost to the brink of fainting again. Oh, did she love him, and she was always surprised at how very attracted she was to him. She could only hope, even with the way she looked now, that she made Victor want to faint as well. It was probably too much to ask for.

Though he certainly seemed interested enough, from the way he was running his palms over her shoulders, and from that same dreamy look from earlier that he was giving her. Feeling a bit heartened, Victoria slid her own hands around his waist, being careful not to tickle him. Victor was monstrously ticklish, so she always had to be mindful of how and where she touched him so that she didn't break the mood. For some reason that made her smile to herself.

With his hands on her shoulders, Victor stepped back a little. Victoria looked up into his face, and saw that he was darting little glances at her. Though definitely not at her eyes.

"You look...beautiful, Victoria," he said, almost shyly. "That nightgown is...my goodness, I...you look lovely." He was tilting his head and smiling a nearly sheepish smile. As though he were a little ashamed of himself for looking at her that way. Victoria focused on the buttons of his pajama top. He was such a liar. A sweet, well-meaning liar, but a liar all the same. But she would never say so.

So she merely said, in a low voice, "Thank you, Victor. You look quite handsome yourself." That made him blush faintly and look at the floor briefly before meeting her eyes again.

"Thank you," he said softly. Then he wrapped his arms around her slowly, gently pinning her upper arms against her sides. Leaning down, Victor kissed her forehead. It was a tender, soft, affectionate kiss. With that same slowness, he pressed his lips just as tenderly on the bridge of her nose, her cheek, and then her lips. Victoria was swept up in a wave of affection. Once again she felt warm and trembly all over, and even the tips of her fingers and toes tingled as she returned the kiss. She couldn't help sliding her hands up his back, holding him close. When Victor's tongue touched hers, just briefly, Victoria thought for certain that her knees had turned to water.

Finally she had to pull away—she felt much too close to swooning. Yet, it was still a lovely feeling. Standing on tiptoe, she pressed her cheek against Victor's, her eyes closed, reveling in the warmth and intimacy of the moment. They stood that way for what felt like a long time. Victoria could both hear and feel how shaky Victor's breathing was. She was sure hers sounded the same.


	3. Chapter 3

"Shall we, Mrs. Van Dort?" Victor asked, his lips against her ear. The feathery feel of his breath against her skin made Victoria shiver all the way down her neck.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Van Dort," she replied, gently running her fingers between his shoulder blades.

"The door is locked?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful."

They smiled at one another as they pulled apart. Victoria began to make her way over to the bed. She was surprised when Victor stopped her. Questioningly, she turned back to look at him. He had a very odd sort of expression on his face.

"Well," Victor said quietly, scratching the back of his neck, "I had an idea. Just because it's our anniversary...I thought perhaps..." He paused, and looked at her feet for a moment.

"Yes?" Victoria prompted, wondering. She watched him as he slowly brought his eyes back up to meet hers, seeming to take in every inch of her along the way.

"Shall I carry you?" Victor asked, somehow managing to sound both bold and embarrassed. It was a feat only he could accomplish, Victoria thought affectionately. But when he moved forward to take her in his arms again, she stepped just out of his reach.

"No, no, that's all right," she said, twisting her hands together. It was a nervous habit of hers. Then she noticed that he looked a little hurt.

"I'm too heavy for you to carry," Victoria explained, embarrassed, still twisting her hands. "You'll hurt yourself."

"Nonsense!" Victor said reassuringly. "I can pick you up." He took another step toward her, and Victoria realized he was planning on proving it. For whatever reason, he seemed quite intent. So Victoria decided not to argue. It was his back, after all. Smiling at her lovingly, Victor put one arm across her back before bending to put the other behind her knees.

Much to Victoria's surprise, Victor managed to scoop her up quite easily. He did stagger backward a little, but if he found her a bit heavy, he kept it to himself. When he looked down at her, it was with the most affectionate gaze that Victoria had ever gotten from him. And that was saying something.

"See?" he asked with a slightly crooked smile. Victoria couldn't help smiling back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. Reaching up to stroke his hair tenderly, she gazed into his eyes.

"I love you," she said, her voice coming out as though there was no breath behind it. Victor adjusted his hold on her slightly and pulled her a bit closer.

"I love you, too," he replied. "Very much."

With that, Victor carried her across the room. Very gently, very tenderly, he laid her down in the middle of the bed. He kissed her forehead again before straightening up. Victoria folded her arms over her stomach as she watched Victor cup his hand over the top of the lamp on the bedside table and blow out the flame. The moonlight truly was brilliant. It slanted over the bed, illuminating everything with a blue light. Victoria could see quite clearly. Her breath had started to come fast. Having put out the lamp, Victor climbed into bed next to her. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down into her face. They simply lay there for a moment, both of them savoring the anticipation of what they were about to share, gazing into one another's eyes. Victoria's breath was coming even faster now, and she could feel her heart racing. After what seemed like an eternity, Victor finally put a hand on her middle and leaned down toward her.

Their lips met several times in quick, glancing kisses as Victor slowly ran his hand down onto her hip, then up her stomach and back again—the sensation of the silk moving against her skin under his hand was almost too much. Victoria felt a rush of desire so strong it made her gasp. She reached up and put one arm around his shoulder, clutching the fabric of his pajama top in her fist. With her other hand she gently caressed his neck, his face, his hair. He made a very low, very quiet sound in the back of his throat, but it was enough to send another thrill through her.

Victor moved a little closer, molding himself against her side. Victoria lay back and closed her eyes as he began gently kissing her neck. All the way down her throat, then her collarbone, and then the sensitive spot just below her ear. The best thing about being intimate after so long together was how well they knew one another. And Victor had learned precisely where to kiss her, and how to touch her. She'd learned the same things about him. But he was always so gentle, just as he was being so gentle now. Even when they were first married, and completely inexperienced. He had never hurt her, never been rough. And Victoria loved him all the more for it. Victor was a very considerate and kind man—it shouldn't have surprised her that he'd turn out to be just as considerate and kind a lover.

With his mouth still against her neck, he ran his hand up her side again until his thumb just touched the underside of her breast. Victoria drew a sharp breath, and couldn't stop herself from arching up against him. She managed to turn on her side so that they were facing one another. With slightly shaky hands, she began to unbutton is pajama top. She had begun to feel rather bold.

"What are you doing?" she suddenly heard him ask in a croaky whisper. He was breathing very hard. She immediately pulled her hands back.

"I'm sorry," she whispered quickly, feeling foolish. But Victor was quick to reassure her.

"Oh no, I didn't mean it that way," he whispered into her neck. "I was merely surprised. You don't usually...well..." He didn't finish. But he was right. It was the rare occasion that Victoria got up the nerve to undress Victor. Usually she was content with it being the other way around.

"It's our anniversary," she whispered, turning her head to press her lips against his cheek. "Shall I continue?" Victoria hadn't any idea where this slight sauciness was coming from. But Victor didn't seem to mind.

"Oh, please do," he told her. Even in the moonlight, she could tell he was blushing a little. He was being oddly saucy himself. Oh well. Twenty years was an important anniversary.

So Victoria fumbled with the buttons until the pajama top was open. He looked very pale in the moonlight. Tenderly she ran her hands over his bare chest and sides. Sliding her hands around his waist, she inched down a bit so that she could press her lips against his collarbone. Soon she felt Victor's hands twining in her hair, holding her head against him. Victoria kept up with her kisses, pressing her lips against every inch of Victor's chest, feeling that she didn't do this nearly often enough. When she pressed her mouth against his stomach, he seemed to stop breathing for a moment. Slowly, she kissed her way back up to his neck, her hands finding their way back to his shoulders.

"Oh, Victoria," he murmured into her hair. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist. Rolling over on his back, he managed to take her with him, gently pulling her on top of him.

Their lips met again, much more passionately than before. Victoria caressed Victor's bare shoulders as she gently, and rather timidly, rubbed her tongue against his. She felt his hands clutching at her hips, pressing them against his own. She pulled away briefly, gazing down at his face. His eyes were slightly open, and she felt another giddy rush at the deep feeling she saw there. Victor's breathing was labored, his chest practically heaving against hers. Not taking her eyes from his, she ran her fingers through his hair. Then she leaned down and kissed his ear.

From many past experiences, she knew the reaction that she was going to get. Victoria couldn't help smiling just a little when she heard Victor gasp. He began feverishly running his hands all up and down her back, her hips, and as far down her thighs as he could reach. So she kept on kissing, slowly and gently pressing her mouth to his neck, his cheek and back onto his ear again. By then, she could feel Victor practically writhing beneath her, his breath hissing between his teeth. Victoria even went so far as to lightly run her tongue over his earlobe.

When she did that, Victor's reaction was convulsive. He twisted his head to catch her mouth with his, kissing her deeply, his palms pressed against her shoulder blades. He held her tightly for a moment, and then nudged her gently onto her back again. Victoria lay back and held his gaze as, with trembling fingers, Victor began undoing the tiny buttons of her nightgown. He never took his eyes from hers as he slowly opened her gown. He was taking his time, drawing it out. Finally, Victoria's nightgown was completely open. With the most incredibly loving gaze, Victor leaned away and looked her slowly up and down. He didn't seem to notice all of the flaws that Victoria had seen—his expression wasn't simply loving, Victoria realized. It was nearly reverent.

With gentle hands, Victor slid the sleeves of the gown down her arms, bending to kiss her shoulders as he went. When he'd completely removed the nightgown and placed it on the bed next to them, he lifted her arm and kissed the inside of her wrist. Still moving so slowly, he kissed all the way down her arm until reaching her shoulder again. Victoria helped him to remove his pajama bottoms. Then he climbed on top of her, covering her body with his.

Victoria gasped and arched against him. She wasn't used to them being completely undressed when they did this. But it felt wonderful. Little bursts of lightning seemed to course through her wherever Victor's bare skin was pressed against hers.

He leaned down until their foreheads touched. Victor stroked her hair for a moment, and then reached to cup one of her breasts. Now it was Victoria's turn to take a hissing kind of breath. She stroked his shoulders as he fondled her, pressing his lips against her cheeks and chin. Finally he lowered his head and kissed from the hollow of her throat down onto her bosom. Victoria held his head gently between her hands as Victor covered each of her breasts with tender kisses. Judging by the way he stroked and pressed his face against them, he didn't seem to notice or care that her breasts weren't as firm as they used to be. That realization aroused Victoria just as much as his gentle touch.

Victoria reached out to her sides, clutching and unclutching handfuls of the sheets. She felt she had to do something with her hands—it was almost instinctive. Victor held onto her hips as he kissed her stomach. She thought she was going to burst from desire when he held his mouth over her navel. As he moved even lower, pressing his mouth on her hips, he ran one of his hands back up her side and onto her breast. With both hands Victoria stroked his arm, as far down as she could reach.

Finally, Victor kissed his way back up to her lips, covering every inch of her. As he kissed he ran his palms up and down her sides, her arms, her breasts. When their lips met, it wasn't as gentle and tender as before. Now it was passionate, almost hungry. Both of them were breathing hard. They pressed against each other for a moment, their faces inches apart.

"Ready?" Victor asked with difficulty, his eyes closed. All Victoria could do was nod—she couldn't get enough breath to reply. Victor cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again.

Both of them sighed when he gently guided himself inside her. They had done this so many times...the weight of him, the feel of him inside of her, it all felt so familiar and safe. Victoria heard herself making small whimpering noises. She couldn't help it. She simply loved him so much, and their intimacy made her feel as though she had fireworks going off in her blood. Victor was dropping fervent kisses on her face and neck.

"Oh Victoria...oh my love...Victoria," he managed to gasp in between kisses.

Suddenly, Victoria felt that familiar heavy rush. It was going to happen. It didn't always happen, but it happened often enough. She made a breathless sort of squeak into Victor's shoulder as she arched almost violently against him, and then her mind went curiously blank for a few seconds. Pure pleasure flooded through her, leaving her limp and trembling all over. After a moment, the intense feeling had passed, and she came back to herself a bit.

Victoria could tell that Victor was almost there. His breath was whistling, and he was gripping her shoulders.

"Oh my darling," he gasped as he began to tremble. Victoria had the feeling that Victor wasn't even aware that he was speaking—he did it all the time, but she wasn't sure if he knew it or not. "Victoria, dear Victoria, my love..." To help him along, Victoria reached up and kissed him on the earlobe.

That did it. Victor gave a low groan, shuddered, and then fell limply against her, his face buried in her bosom. Victoria held him close, pressing her cheek against his sweaty hair. They lay contentedly entwined for quite a while, getting their breath back.

When they were both breathing normally again, Victor propped himself up on his elbows, gave a contented sigh, and then gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

"That was lovely," he whispered, nuzzling her cheek. Victoria returned the gesture.

"Yes, it was," she replied. They beamed happily at one another. After one more kiss, Victor rolled onto his back beside her. Victoria reached down to pull the blanket up around them, and they snuggled close to one another, nightclothes forgotten.

"Happy anniversary, my love," Victor said, giving her a gentle squeeze and pressing his lips briefly to her hair. She rested her head against his neck, listening to his breathing become steady.

"Happy anniversary," Victoria replied. After a moment, she added, "I'm sure our next twenty years will be as wonderful as these have been." Victor smiled down at her.

"I think so, too," he said. "Our next twenty years." Then, Victor reached up behind his head and rapped his knuckles against the headboard. Victoria smiled. She snuggled against him, and slowly drifted off to sleep, feeling like a young woman again.


End file.
